


Give Your Heart

by earthseraph



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rain, Sleeping In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthseraph/pseuds/earthseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rain used to make his bones ache. It used to make him want to stay curled up anywhere desolate and alone hoping nobody would find him. </p>
<p>The thick smell of rain used to choke him and make him wrinkle his nose. </p>
<p>The humid and sticky feel of rain on his skin used to make the hair on his arms raise. </p>
<p>Now, rain is like a blessing in disguise. </p>
<p>(Or: The one where rain keeps them in bed.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> tbh this is mostly Bucky talking to himself in his head about his journey and Steve and I just really wanted to write about rain bc I really want it to rain down this way.
> 
> Title's and ending lines from [La Vie en Rose by Louis Armstrong](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IJzYAda1wA)
> 
> Enjoy!

It used to hurt.

It used to open an invisible wound in him.

Rain used to make his bones ache. It used to make him want to stay curled up anywhere desolate and alone hoping nobody would find him. 

The thick smell of rain used to choke him and make him wrinkle his nose. 

The humid and sticky feel of rain on his skin used to make the hair on his arms raise. 

Now, rain is like a blessing in disguise.

* * *

* * *

If there was one word to summarize the week Bucky’s had it’s: _Rough_.

Fighting sewage aliens on Monday, tearing down a HYDRA facility on Tuesday, debriefing for all the above on Wednesday, doing annoying press on Thursday, dealing with a poorly-timed gala on Friday, getting shot at by garden variety thugs on Saturday, and, now, Sunday there’s a calming pitter-patter of rain against the window, and a sleeping Steve next to him.

All of the week’s troubles and problems seem to wash away like the streams of water down the window. His body seems to seep further into the bed with each rise and fall of Steve’s chest, and it feels too damn good to be true. He wants to soak in it, he want the rest of his days to feel like this, but he knows that’s not possible. Even for two boys out of time. 

“Jarvis?”, He murmurs into the quiet room, eyes closed and voice hardly above a whisper so he doesn’t wake Steve. 

“Sergeant Barnes.” Jarvis replies, his volume low like he knows Bucky doesn’t want to be broken out of this state of calm. 

Bucky ignores the want of pushing his face into Steve’s shoulder for replying, eyes still closed, “Don’t let anyone bother us today unless the world’s ending, got it?”

“Absolutely, Sir.” If Jarvis were a living creature Bucky thinks he’d be nodding and turning on his heel to shut down their comms and lock their doors for the day. 

Bucky lets himself relax further into the warm sheets of the bed, nose pushing against Steve’s neck, hands around the man’s waist, and he swore nothing could be better than right now. Not even the times he and Steve had to cuddle for warmth because they didn’t have thicker blankets and Brooklyn winters liked to push it’s tendrils of cold through their floorboards and chill them down to their bones. Not even when everything was mostly simple and they didn’t have to fight monsters from outer space on the weekends. 

Nothing could match how relaxed and good he feels right now, so he’s going to soak in it. Soak in the sound of calming rain washing over the Tower. Soak in the warmth of Steve’s bare back to his. Soak in the soft blankets that he wanted to marry Pepper for when she delivered them to him like she somehow knew how much he loved to curl in soft things. (He thinks he likes soft and warm things so much because of how deprived of them he was for years. Having to be forced asleep by the cold of the cryo, sleeping on any terrain he was near for particularly long missions. But he doesn’t let anyone in on that sad tidbit of his life, he just lets them believe that sleeping and cuddling up to warm soft things- including Steve- was just a quirk of his. He _does_ think Steve’s beginning to catch on to why he likes warm and-slash-or soft things because now there’s more pillows and blankets thrown strategically around their floor n the Tower, and warm baths together are starting to become a regular thing.)

So, Bucky lets himself soak in everything around him. He’s not quite asleep but not quite awake either. He’s somewhere in a calming limbo of things. A place where his mind is more humming than running, where he can feel how good everything is around him, a place where to anyone that looks at him would think he’s sleeping. And it felt nice to just _be_ instead of over thinking everything and nothing.

It took him awhile to get used to being in a state like this. Before, he used force himself to sleep. Either working out with to the point exhaustion, or some form of medication that would make him drowsy (He was told the dose of medication he took was enough to drop an elephant). A lot of things took awhile for him to get used to since- as Steve as his therapist called it- he came back. 

He’s been ‘back’ for over a year and a half now. It’s been ups and downs as he went. Nothing easy like his therapist made it seem- she told him it was a road, but it was more like the ocean during a storm. There were rough waves, times he was pulled under into the murky sea, riptides and places where the sea floor was too far from him that he couldn’t feel the sand beneath his toes. But he was okay now, for the most part. He still has days where he feels like he can’t trust himself, there’s still days where he wakes up with a pain between his eyes and a name he doesn’t remember on his tongue, but he gets by. And he has help. 

He’s not alone in this and he knows it. He has people on his side that’ll take care of him and help him heal. He has people he can trust. But most of all, he as Steve. And that might seem codependent or sappy, but Steve’s that light at the end of his tunnel that he keeps running on dark days, and reaching for when he slips under waves. Steve’s the light that’s always been there even in the haze of his Soldier days, something that’s kept him _Bucky_ even when he didn’t know who that was. Steve’s his saving grace, the man that pulls him up from falling under the currents, the man that makes him feel and be and _want_ to be. The man that he loves and would- _has_ done anything for. 

Without Steve, he’d probably still be under HYDRA’s control. Without Steve he’d probably be aimlessly wondering. But he does have Steve, so he’s not going anywhere. He’s not going back to that thing HYDRA made, he’s not going to fall into a thought and emotionless state. He’s not going to do any of that. 

He should thank Steve. And he knows he will one day and Steve that will shake it off with a ‘It was nothing, Buck’. He doesn’t think Steve actually knows how much his presence helped him, and Steve will probably never know ‘cause he’s humble and loving like that. But even a simple smile from Steve helped push his day on, just seeing Steve alive and well after what happened on the Potomac made him believe he could be and do better. 

And he did. He got better, he did better. He owes that to himself, to the people who helped him, but mostly to Steve. 

So he holds onto the man sleeping in front of him tighter. He presses his nose into Steve’s neck, and presses butterfly kisses to any bare skin he can find like a benediction. Like, the touch of his lips to Steve’s skin will _somehow_ make up for everything Steve’s done for him. He knows he needs to give Steve a proper ‘thank you’ one of these days. Maybe a nice dinner and an outing to one of those art galleries Steve loves so much. He knows he has a lot to do. A lot of thanking and making up to Steve and innocent people. 

A long way to go until he completely finds himself again.

But right now, in the almost-silence of his bedroom, he’s just going to hold Steve close in his arms, and kiss the bare skin in front of him with his eyes closed. He’s going to relax further into the sheets of their bed, listen to the calming sound of rain pattering on their window, and thank whatever God that’s listening for bringing him and Steve back together even though it took 70 years of ice and pain and brainwashing. He’s just going to lay with Steve and dream of a future where he puts up his gun and Steve puts up his shield and they move out to the country like they always said they would. 

He’s going hold Steve to his chest, with the sound of rain and Steve’s calm breathing surrounding him and he’s going to _dream._

- _End_

* * *

* * *

_When you press me to your heart_   
_I'm in a world apart_   
_A world where roses bloom_   
_And when you speak_   
_Angels sing from above_   
_Everyday words seems_   
_To turn into love song_   
_Give your heart and soul to me_   
_And life will always be la vie en rose_

**Author's Note:**

> So I have a long fic planned (very excited about this fic) and in two weeks I start Uni so idk if these weekly fic postings will happen, we shall see. 
> 
> Follow [My Tumblr](http://pesmenos.tumblr.com/) for Seb Stan drooling and Stucky crying.


End file.
